Italy Man
by atrfla
Summary: Iron Man has a daughter who was born in, partially raised in, and loves Italy. He's not too fond of Sicily Stark's Italian passion, but then again it could be worse: Sicily could be Captain America's daughter. Still, I wonder what'll happen, and if I should change the name of this story to Italy Woman?...
1. Chapter 1: Surprise!

The peaceful silence was broken by a loud "SICILYYYYYY!"

"WHAT!?" I screamed from my room.

"Get down here," my mom's voice yelled.

"FINE," I shouted back. I took one last look at the beautiful red, white, and green Iron Man suit I had gotten from my dad this morning for my birthday and clomped down the stairs.

"SURPRISE!" yelled all of my family, jumping out from behind their hiding spots.

I blushed. "Oh my gosh!" I turned to my mom, who was standing in the big kitchen with her hands behind her back. "Mom, did you invite all the family to come celebrate my birthday?"

"Yep," she said proudly.

I turned to my little twin siblings, four-year-olds Paris (girl) and Rome (boy). "Did you plan this all by yourselves?" I asked, bending down and poking their bellies.

"Yep!" said Paris in her squeaky little voice.

"Thank you," I thanked her, hoisting her up onto my hip. She was getting heavy.

"Jawvis helped," Rome said solemnly.

"Aww, thank you Jarvis," I said.

"You're welcome, Miss Sicily," replied Jarvis from the speakers. "I suggest you take a look behind your mother's back."

"I want to catch up with my family first," I said firmly. I crossed to Uncle Steve and hugged him. His six-year-old daughter, America, peered out from behind his back. I put Paris down and hugged America. "Hi, America. Hi, Uncle Steve."

"Hi, Sicily," Uncle Steve said, catching me in a bear hug.

"Hi, Sis Silly!" America squeaked. She started calling me that when she was only two and I was nine. I don't mind; she's so cute that you can't mind.

"Hi, Meriky," I said, rubbing the top of her head. "How are you?"

"Good!" she squeaked.

I walked calmly over to Uncle Hawkeye and Aunt Natasha. "Hi, Uncle Hawkeye, hi, Aunt Natasha." Their daughter Meghan, who was a year younger than me, was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Meghan?"

"She was sick, so she stayed home. We employed someone to watch her. We need to leave soon though, to make sure she doesn't kill the babysitter," explained Aunt Natasha, checking her watch. "Happy thirteenth birthday, Sicily! Our present is the one wrapped in all black."

"Jaylee, remember that," I said, tapping my head. My own personal artificial intelligence, Jaylee, who was installed inside my head, responded with a quick _I've already got it._

Uncle Hawkeye gave me a quick pat on the head, and Aunt Natasha hugged me, then they ran out of the room down the hallway in the human super-speed only a trained master assassin could have.

"Bye," I called after them and proceeded to proceed to Uncle Hulk. Sitting on the couch in his big green form, he made the couch look like a Barbie doll couch. I giggled. "Hi Uncle Hulk."

"Hi," he rumbled.

"Hi," rumbled his son, Byren, who was fifteen and two years older than me.

"Hi," rumbled his daughter, Bella, my best friend, who was thirteen and my age.

"Hi, Byren, Bella," I greeted them. I didn't hug them for fear they'd squish my ribs to bits. Instead, I put one foot in front of the other and bumped smack-dab into Uncle Thor and Uncle Loki and their families.

"Hey, Thora!" I said, giving my second best friend (not second-best, but second best) a huge hug. "Hey, Lacie! Hey, Lucy! Hey, Lydia!", this directed toward Uncle Loki's triplets, who were eight. "Hi, Little Roach," I greeted little five-year-old Loki Jr. After a joke when he was one about his father being the Cockroach King, we had permanently nicknamed him Little Roach. He liked it. He always dressed in brown. Right now he was wearing a little brown t-shirt and matching cargo pants, with little brown antennae on a headband sticking out of his tiny head.

"Miss Sicily," persisted Jarvis.

"All right, all right, Jarvis. Give me a second," I sighed. I bounced over to Mom and held out my hands expectantly.

"Go sit at the table and close your eyes," she ordered.

I followed her directions.

"Open," my dad's voice said.

I opened my eyes and squealed. On the table was a selection of Italian cards, gifts, and a huge Italian flag cake! "Oh my gosh! Mom, you've outdone yourself!" I gasped.

Mom beamed down at me. "Anything for my eldest daughter."

I smiled up at her and proceeded to listen to my entire family (except for the assassins and their daughter) sing_ Happy Birthday_. In eighteen different languages, one per person, twenty if you counted Jarvis and Jaylee.

I watched Paris sing along in French and giggled at Rome's rendition of a Latin _Happy Birthday_. I hid a smile as I looked at America singing in English and Uncle Hulk rumbling along in Trollese (grunt grunt repeated a lot of times). I stifled a giddy laugh as I glanced at Mom, vocalizing in Greek, and Dad accompanying her, singing a very happy Polish birthday to me in his gruff playboy voice. Oh, yeah. My parents are Pepper and Tony Stark.


	2. Chapter 2: The Opening of the Gifts

**WARNING: Boys may want to skip this chapter. It's really only the presents, and only a few are important to the story and others may be mentioned later.**

"Open the presents!" squeaked Meriky.

"Okay, I will," I said, reaching for the nearest gift- obviously the L triplets', because it was in a bag with 'L' all over it- not very nice, but thoughtful considering it was from three eight-year-old girls.

"No, no! Mine first!" insisted Bella, pushing a small green bag toward me.

"All right!" I gave in, taking the bag. I ripped out the green tissue paper (everything in Bella's gift was green for two reasons: first, I was born in Italy and named after an Italian city, so of course my favorite colors are red, white and green- Uncle Steve hates this, but he puts up with it- and second, Bella is Hulk's daughter) and set it on the floor. Mom swooped in and picked it up. Mom says she's only a bit OCD, but I say she's a lot OCD.

I lifted out a beautiful (green) ring. Actually, it was a silver ring set with shining emeralds. "Wow, Bell! This is gorgeous!"

She blushed. "I spent hours combing the mall, and knew it when I saw it."

I slid it onto my right ring finger. It fit perfectly. "Thanks, Bell! I love it!"

"I knew you would!" she replied with a smile.

Next, a box wrapped in all black dropped into my lap.

_I believe this is from the assassins,_ said Jaylee.

"I know," I replied.

"Hmm?" asked my mom.

"Talking to Jaylee," I sighed.

"Oh. Okay."

I tore the wrapping paper off to find- OMG! A Justice box! "Okay, I know whatever is in this box is something I'm going to love." I opened the box. "Oh my gosh! This is so awesome!" I took the green jeans and red-white-and-green _I Love Italy_ Justice T-shirt from the box. "I'm going to go put these on," I squealed, rushing from the room.

"If you keep doing that with all the clothes you're going to get, you'll miss half the party!" my dad called after me as I ran up the stairs, and I laughed.

Later, in my room, I gazed happily at my huge haul. I had received quite a lot of stuff:

• Bella's ring

• the outfit from the assassins as well as a pair of silver bow earrings

• a cute little red-and-white headband from Meriky

• an Italian flag poster from Uncle Steve (which must have been painful for him to buy)

• three pairs of chunky, kind of low high heels (one in red, one in white, one in green) from Thora

• a year's-worth subscription to _Seventeen_ and a huge set of smoky eye shadow from the L triplets

• a silver bow tie with tiny green spots on it and a $25 iTunes gift card from Little Roach

• a large green poster with the word KNEEL in silver lettering from Uncle Loki

• a set of metallic glitter perfumes from Uncle Hulk

• 20 bottles of nail polish in different shades of green, white, red, silver, and black from Uncle Thor

• three lip glosses, one red and two pink, a black denim jacket that cut off at the bottom of my rib cage, and a pair of white knee-high boots from Meghan

• an iPhone 5, a white bunny case with a fluffy little cotton-ball tail (Paris shied away from this; she's afraid of cotton balls, she says that they make her feel icky) , an Italian flag case, and a cute little cow case from Mom

• a cute little random-design purse (you've seen the type: colorful polka dots, zigzag stripes, normal stripes, dots on stripes… you know) from Paris

• a strong little black male kitten, whom I named Iron, from Rome, as well as a $20 gift card for the pet store

• and, sweetest of all, a beautiful silver charm bracelet with two charms, an S charm and an Italian flag charm, from _Byren_ of all people!

I suspected that many of the kids' gifts were paid for by their parents, but I said nothing.


	3. Chapter 3: Meet My (Normal) Friends

The next morning was a Monday. A school day, ick! I briefly wondered whether it was against the school dress code to wear an Iron Man (or rather, an Iron Girl) suit to school, then dismissed the thought- I would probably get kicked out of school, even if I _did_ make a sensation like I liked to do.

I slipped into the _I Love Italy _t-shirt and shimmied into the green jeans. I put on the red high heels, walked to my bathroom, and applied smoky green eye shadow and red lip gloss. I slipped on my ring and admired it for a while. I combed my straggly blond hair and positioned the headband in it. I had a pair of Italian flag earrings, and I situated those on my ears. I sprayed on some silver glitter perfume (scent: tropical wonderland) and padded back to my room. I put on the black jacket, and since I'd already done my nails in white and silver last night, my appearance was ready. I slipped the cow case onto my new iPhone and put it in my already-packed backpack. I rubbed a sleeping Iron on the head (he meowed) and clonked out the door.

When I arrived at school, the first thing that happened was that my normal friends, Caitlyn and Nicole, attacked me. "Sicily! Sicily!"

Nicole, ever the fashionista, stood in front of me and scrutinized my outfit. "What did I tell you, Sicily? _No more logo shirts!_"

"This isn't a logo shirt!" I protested.

"It's a shirt with words- and unless those words are _Abercrombie, Hollister, _or any brand name, it's a no-no," she said, wagging her right index finger in front of my face.

"At least I color-coded," I assured her.

"Silver, green, red, white," she listed, ticking them off on her fingers. Perfect. Over-"

"Over five is too much, and two or less is too little," Caitlyn and I chorused. "We know."

Then it was Caitlyn's turn. "Okay. Show me the electronics," she ordered. Caitlyn was a tech-obsessie.

I giggled and pulled my new phone out of my backpack.

She examined it. "Not bad. May I?" she asked.

"Uh, sure?" I said hesitantly.

She pulled the cow case off of it and snapped it in half.

"Caitlyn!" I cried.

"It's okay," Nicole assured me. "She did the same to mine over the weekend. It actually works." Caitlyn and Nicole were next-door neighbors and did everything together. I lived halfway across New York City from them, so if I wanted to do anything with them, I had to ask Dad to fly me over to their neighborhood, ask Mom to arrange for them to come here, or ask Happy to drive me over. I corrected myself mentally. Now I had a suit and could go anywhere I wanted.

_Sweet._

Caitlyn pulled a tiny blue wire out and dug through her backpack. She pulled out a slightly larger green wire and wired it into my phone. Then she broke a few red wires and- I couldn't believe it- snapped my phone back together. She handed it back to me.

I examined it. There wasn't even a thin line where she'd cracked it. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

"Caitlyn! How'd you do this?" I exclaimed.

A thin smile played across her lips. "Jerome taught me." Jerome, her older brother by seven years (he was twenty; Caitlyn, Nicole and I were obviously 13) was a tech major in college.

_Ring!_

Darn. I'm late. ?


End file.
